


In Memory

by TauriCXIV



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood, Episode Ardyn doesn't happen, Gen, Good Ardyn Izunia, Reference to human experimentation, big brother instinct, hurt noct
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TauriCXIV/pseuds/TauriCXIV
Summary: Bad Things Happen Bingo: Big Brother InstinctThe child before him was deathly pale save for the familiar patches of mottled black skin. A chill settled heavily in Ardyn’s chest. The Starscourge had already taken root. It was only a matter of time before the boy’s body was overcome and the transformation began.Ardyn Lucis Caelum had accepted life as Besithia's test subject, but he could not allow the same fate to befall an innocent child.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia & Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1254488
Comments: 25
Kudos: 144





	In Memory

Ardyn had seen horrors few could imagine. He’d seen suffering and death. He’d felt his own flesh roil and split as the scourge writhed beneath his skin, barely contained, always threatening to burst. He endured two millennia in darkness, bound in chains, where the cruel phantoms of his mind were his only companion. Ardyn had thought himself immune to suffering. After all, he had endured Besithia’s tests, pushed the limits of his immortality, with nary a whimper, and yet…

The child before him was deathly pale save for the familiar patches of mottled black skin. A chill settled heavily in Ardyn’s chest. The Starscourge had already taken root. It was only a matter of time before the boy’s body was overcome and the transformation began. 

Ardyn’s mouth was dry and his voice strained when he spoke. “Why have you brought me here?”

Besithia shifted in his periphery but Ardyn could not take his eyes off the child lying unconscious and helpless on the bed. The boy’s breath was so shallow, so weak, he could scarcely see his chest rise at all.

“The boy was an unfortunate victim of a daemon attack and the sole survivor,” said Besithia. “I’ve already observed your ability to control the Starscourge. You have the power to change men into daemons. It is only logical to test if the reverse is also possible.”

Ardyn turned to stare at him. Besithia had aged greatly over the years, unlike Ardyn— _ preserved by the corruption within him _ . Besithia’s blond hair had thinned and faded, the creases around his eyes and mouth had become more apparent day by day. What had not faded was his devastating ambition. Ardyn had known men like Besithia. Men hungry for power and wealth—men eager to use Ardyn for their own ends. None of those men had frightened Ardyn the way Besithia did.

And yet, no matter how much the man frightened him, no matter how he picked and pulled Ardyn apart, desperate to learn all he could about the Starscourge, Ardyn never once raised his voice against it. He was selfish. Weak. A  _ coward _ . All it had taken was a soft bed, a warm meal, clean clothes, and a lack of chains and spears through his flesh for Ardyn to allow the madman to make an experiment of him. Ardyn  _ knew _ Besithia never intended to use what he learned to help the scourge-afflicted. He’d heard the research chief speak of harnessing the power of daemons for combat—of going so far as to induce demonification in unwitting subjects. And Ardyn had done nothing to stop it. 

But now that madness was turned toward an innocent child. 

Adryn saw the tension in the man’s shoulders, the way his eyes darted over the boy’s face, the twitch of the man’s lips as he fought against a smile. Besithia was not one to help the helpless. He had plans for this boy and whatever they were would not be kind. But he needed Ardyn to cleanse the scourge first. 

His stomach turned at the thought of this child held prisoner to Besithia’s whim. 

“The gods granted me the power to draw out the scourge,” Ardyn said, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “But that power was lost when I was deemed unworthy.” He tried not to let the words sound spiteful. He’d spent so long wondering what he had done wrong, but there was no use in demanding answers from absent gods.

But Besithia would not be dissuaded. “You have not even tried! When was the last time you attempted to heal?”

_ (Images of a faceless crowd flashed behind his eyes. A marble staircase. A man and a woman waiting for him. People he loved.)  _ The memory was gray as a looming storm cloud. 

“If you do nothing the child is doomed to become a daemon,” Besithia pressed. “Surely it is worth attempting?”

He could try. Ardyn could still remember how it felt to reach out to the afflicted. He remembered a young woman on the brink of transformation, her face twisted in rage, howling like a beast, black tears bleeding down her face. He remembered drawing the scourge into himself—feeling it claw at him from within.  _ Just a little more _ , he’d tell himself when his hands would tremble and his knees threatened to give out. When he could taste the bile rising in his throat.  _ I can take it. I must! _

The boy whimpered. Ardyn’s heart ached for him. Even unconscious, he was not free from pain. He was so small, so young, less than ten years old, no doubt. The boy must have had a family—a mother and father who wept for their child’s fate. Ah, but perhaps not, if what Besithia had told him was true. Perhaps the boy’s family had been the other victims and had not lived long enough to know his torment. 

He could do it. He could spare this boy, just as he had spared that girl so long ago.

_ (A man dressed in black wielding the power of his king. He lay on the ground as Ardyn knelt down and placed hands on his chest. Something was wrong. Darkness sprung from Ardyn’s hands unbidden and uncontrollable. The man's face broke open in terror and pain as black ichor poured into him. He hadn’t meant to do it. Dear Six, he hadn’t meant to!) _

Ardyn’s hands refused to lift from his sides. 

_ Coward _ .

Arydn shook his head. “I can do nothing for him but be with him in the end.”

Besithia opened his mouth before snapping it shut again. His jaw was clenched so tightly it must have been painful. He looked down at the boy and back at Ardyn. “Then I leave him in your  _ care _ ,” he sneered. “Perhaps you will change your mind before he becomes merely another abomination?”

Besithia stalked out of the room. The click of his footfalls cut off as the door shut and locked behind him. 

Ardyn cleaned away the boy’s dried blood and sweat. He was careful not to jostle him for fear of further aggravating his wounds. The child was tense, his muscles locked tight from the pain.  Days passed. Ardyn scarcely left the child’s side. The discoloration spread up his back and across his chest. Through the boy's fever, he roused several times but was never coherent enough to speak or even open his eyes. Ardyn carefully fed him small spoonfuls of water, gently lifting him up so he did not choke. He spoke softly to him as he stroked his hair, though it was doubtful he could hear him, words of comfort—that all of this would soon pass. 

_ Liar _ . 

This was all terribly familiar to Ardyn. He had been little more than a child himself when his brother had fallen terribly ill.

_ (A bedroom, heavy wool blankets piled over the shivering form of his little brother. “Somnus, please you need to drink. Somnus, open your eyes.” Ardyn climbed into the bed and pulled his tiny brother up against his chest. Ardyn lifted the cup to Somnus’ lips and helped him take small sips. The boy's skin was like fire and Ardyn felt fear carve at his heart. He’d heard Gilgamesh talking to the healer about Somnus. “The fever could take him any day,” they say. _

_ No! Ardyn wasn’t going to let that happen. Somnus was his baby brother and the only family he had left.  _

_ “Ardyn,” said Somnus, his voice was raw from the coughing fits. Blue eyes shining with tears. _

_ “I’m here,” he said, hugging his little brother to him. “I won’t leave you, I promise.”) _

He’d fought so fiercely for Somnus, his little brother. He had kept his promise and stayed by his side until the fever broke and he regained his strength.  _ “A miracle” _ , they said.  _ “Blessed by the gods” _ , they told him. From that moment on, Ardyn had devoted his life to healing. 

And yet now he stood, watching another child suffer alone, in this gilded cage of his, and he did  _ nothing _ . Because he was too afraid. Because he wasn’t sure he could control it. Because he was afraid of what would become of him if he  _ could _ . The gods were right to cast him aside. He was unworthy of their blessing. Shame welled inside of him. 

A tiny sputtered gasp drew him back to the present. To Ardyn’s surprise, the boy’s eyelids fluttered and opened, not enough to see their color, but enough to know the child was looking at him. 

“D-ad,” croaked the boy.

Ice pierced his heart and froze his veins.

“Hurts... want my dad,” he mumbled. Tears spilled from his lashes and left a black trail down his temple.

Ardyn’s fist trembled at his side. Whatever his sins, this boy did not deserve to suffer for them. Besithia had spoken truly before, the boy was doomed unless Ardyn tried. So he had to try. 

“It’s alright,” Ardyn said, reaching up to smooth his dark hair away from his tearstained face. “Soon it will be over.” 

He bowed his head.  _ Please, _ he begged, of whom he didn’t know  _ (the warm smile of a lost love) _ ,  _ spare this one. Let him live. _ And then reached out, grasping at the scourge ravaging the boy’s body and  _ pulled.  _

He felt the scourge within himself rebel. It clawed at him, tearing at the prison of his flesh to be free, to consume and destroy.  _ No!  _ He wouldn’t let it take him—either of them. Ardyn wrestled the corruption back down and grasped the boy’s hand tight. He bit back his screams as he pulled the scourge from him. His knees buckled but he caught himself against the bed and held fast to the boy’s hand. It hurt, but he endured. Soon he saw the dark stains fade and warmth returned to the boy’s skin. 

Ardyn released his grip and fell back against the ground, trembling. He tasted blood, and tears burned his eyes. He curled into himself, arms wrapped around his chest and pushed the scourge down deep inside himself, where it could not escape. 

On the bed, the child gasped and cried out. Ardyn struggled to his knees. 

“Oh,” he breathed.  The child’s deep ocean-blue eyes were open wide in confusion and distress. How had he not seen it before? The black hair, pale skin, and thin, fragile frame. In Ardyn’s mind, the specter of his brother, the child Somnus had once been, overlaid perfectly with this boy.

“What? Where is this?” The boy’s eyes darted around, seeking something familiar to take comfort in and finding nothing. Ardyn struggled to his feet drawing the attention of Somnus‘s young look-alike. “Who are you?” 

“My name is Ardyn. I’m going to keep you safe.” 

Above him, mounted on the wall, a device Besithia called a camera caught Ardyn’s eye. It was time he escaped his cage.


End file.
